On the Eve
by Reive
Summary: SLASH. Lucius/Severus. On the eve of the final battle between good and evil, Snape and Lucius discuss their past and Lucius seeks a promise. Angst, smut, lost love and quiet affection all here. The story is now complete.
1. Chapter 1

It's JKR's world, I just play in it.  
  
This will be a short (5 chapters or less) SLASH FIC. Some angst, some smut, a lot of reminiscing.  
  
Lucius/Severus. Rated R.  
  
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Snape slammed his book shut, and sat up in his chair, removing his foot from its resting place on the edge of his desk.  
  
"Goddamn it Minerva! Can't you ever knock?!" he shouted at the woman who had just transfigured herself from a cat.  
  
"I wanted to talk to you."  
  
"That," he said, practically hissing at her, "is obvious. However, you seem incapable of grasping the possibility that perhaps I don't want to talk to you."  
  
"I think you should talk to him," she said very quietly.  
  
"This is not your concern Minerva."  
  
"Severus," she said, almost pleadingly.  
  
"I said no!" and he banged his open hand on the table for emphasis.  
  
Minerva, for her part, was obviously startled, but she drew herself up, and said both as quietly and as menacingly as she could. "Severus Snape, I have not interfered in your personal life once in the nearly thirty years since we last discussed it, but I have not forgotten your face that evening. Please go talk to him."  
  
"Why Minerva? Why is it so important to you?"  
  
"Because by this time tomorrow you could well be dead, and if you're not, he'll be in Azkaban. Say goodbye at least. My gods."  
  
Snape was silent a very long time. When he finally spoke, she was shocked at how much his eyes reminded her of that night. "Did it not occur to you, that perhaps this is more than I can bear?"  
  
Minerva looked at the floor. She did not raise her head to look at him when she spoke. "You're a very strong man, Mr. Snape, but I know you, and I do know that all of this has in fact been more than you can bear." She glanced up at him, only briefly then. "Will you come?" she asked, holding out her hand.  
  
With a sigh, Severus rose from his chair and gestured to the door. As he locked it, as Minerva waited nervously and quietly beside him, she whispered, "Thank you."  
  
He merely scowled at her in response.  
  
  
  
"Lucius?" Severus said hoarsely, as he stepped into the small guestroom serving as the man's cell.  
  
Lucius Malfoy sat at a small desk, staring out the window, his features lit by a single candle, his skin aflame like the fallen angel he had always been and would always be. Severus watched what he could see of his profile closely, noted the tenseness of the muscles as the man registered his presence, and as he had for so many years now, calculated how to respond.  
  
The man at the window sighed, and Severus took it as permission. "Do you mind the visit?"  
  
"No," he said finally, without turning. "I'd rather thought you'd turn up."  
  
"McGonogall badgered me into it."  
  
"She still hasn't recovered from the sight of us?"  
  
"So it would seem."  
  
Lucius let out a harsh laugh and turned to face the man who had always been both his friend and his enemy.  
  
Severus smiled then, in a warm, strange, young way, while mentally chiding himself for the timing. "Why did you have to go and get caught?"  
  
Lucius shrugged, palms facing the ceiling as if looking for answers to be delivered by a god he claimed not to believe in. "Dumb luck."  
  
"You shouldn't be here."  
  
"Where should I be, Severus?"  
  
He gestured towards the window. "Out there. Fighting, with us, tomorrow."  
  
"Don't you mean against you?"  
  
It was Severus' turn to shrug then.  
  
"Is this not the ending you imagined for me?"  
  
Severus nodded.  
  
"Am I to be looking out for your pleasure 'til the last then?"  
  
The potions master chuckled darkly and looked away.  
  
"Since this will all be over soon, do you want to finally tell me what the hell McGonogall said to you that day?"  
  
"When did you become my confessor, Lucius?"  
  
"I have always been your confessor," he said softly, and Severus shuddered.  
  
Lucius chuckled, and for a moment, Snape was lost in their school days again. 


	2. Chapter 2

It's JKR's world, I just play in it.  
  
Once again people, this is SLASH.  
  
  
  
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They had meant to go to the astronomy tower together, but Lucius was nothing if not insistent, stopping to kiss and grab in the dark halls of the school, until finally, he had pushed Severus into a wall.  
  
Severus' head had cracked back against it, and it took him a moment to regain focus or perhaps consciousness; he had never been sure. He remembered the insistent mouth then, and Lucius' hands seeking a way under the robes, to caress his skin, fascinated by the way any and all touch overwhelmed the dark-haired boy.  
  
Severus remembered gasping and shuddering at the most simple and even halfway innocent caresses; he had always been too sensitive; funny, how it bred coldness, just so he could survive the onslaught of the world.  
  
That Lucius has been so desperate for him had puzzled in the beginning, but Severus soon learned to understand the nature of the attraction. He learned that he was an impure thought, a creature shameful to desire, striking instead of handsome or beautiful. It wouldn't have been enough had he not been so easily and utterly conquered, so thoroughly destroyed, by oh so very little.  
  
For Severus, touch had been a revelation, as was Lucius' greed. To be coveted even for terrible reasons, was oh such a thing. And being the creature he was, meant that at least Lucius would never kiss and tell.  
  
As the days and weeks went on though, Severus realized that secretly, he wanted him to. After all, there was no point in being possessed, if you could not use that worthiness, that selection, as currency. And that night, in the hall, Severus was going to tell Lucius exactly that.  
  
As long as he lived, Severus would not forget that long incredible moment, their foreheads touching, eyes locked, each holding the other's faces and perhaps hopes in his hands, Lucius' hips pinning him to the wall, his hardness and fear hidden only barely by his school robes.  
  
"I – "  
  
"What Severus?" just as breathless.  
  
"This is a foolish secret."  
  
"That I torment you so?" he asked, grinding into the younger boy again, "or that we keep it secret?"  
  
"Both," Severus whispered hoarsely, hoping it was enough.  
  
A long, low laugh then, a knowing smile. "What is it then?" Another small kiss, hips rolling against his own again.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Love or ambition, Severus? Surely, surely this is enough for anyone." His voice trailed off then, as he bit at his companion's lower lip.  
  
Severus was stuck for a moment, unsure of which sin to confess to. He shoved his tongue roughly into Lucius' far too delicate mouth then, oddly to give himself just a moment to think.  
  
When they came up for air, he said, "I fail to see the difference," in arch tones that would not only serve him well, but define him in the years to come.  
  
"Pardon?" Lucius muttered, his attention for anything other than the flesh before him beginning to fail.  
  
"Love, and ambition, Luci, are … both … merely … our … poor … attempts … at … becoming … gods," he said, bestowing a brief kiss on the blond between each word.  
  
Lucius moaned softly pleased by the drama of his strange companion, and by his own wit, and desire.  
  
"Then worship," he whispered humidly in Severus' ear, before he bit his neck, and pushed the boy down, along the wall to his knees.  
  
Scrabbling at robes then, a slight hiss from Lucius as he was taken in the other boy's mouth, a sigh of pleasure and something akin to shame from Severus, that he should need such things, and that he should allow himself to be out-maneuvered for them.  
  
Moments lost to time and desire, blood roaring and then the sound of someone clearing their throat. The boys froze.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, just what is it you're doing out here at this hour?"  
  
McGonogall. And Severus felt a convulsion like a laugh from Lucius, before the boy closed his robes and stepped slightly to the side, leaving his friend peering around his thigh with wide eyes at the remarkably well composed teacher.  
  
"That will be fifty points from your esteemed House," she said as she glanced down at Severus and then back up to Lucius. "Now pull yourself together, Mr. Malfoy, and get back to your dormitory."  
  
"What, what about Severus?"  
  
"Mr. Snape and I need to have a little conversation. Don't wait up," she said curtly. Oh how she had hated Lucius.  
  
"Sorry," Lucius muttered, reaching down to finally help Severus to his feet.  
  
"Go on," Severus whispered.  
  
Lucius touched his cheek, and fled. 


	3. Chapter 3

It's JKR's world, I just play in it.  
  
Once again people, SLASH (duh). If you don't like it, go away.  
  
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"Severus?"  
  
"Mmmmm?" Severus refocused his eyes and blinked twice at Malfoy, still seated at the desk, still looking at him expectantly. "Pardon me. I was the temporary victim of a particularly vivid recollection."  
  
Lucius smirked then, knowing what the man had to have been thinking of.  
  
"Yes, Lucius, the wonder of your cock has shocked yet another mere mortal into stupefied silence," Severus said icily.  
  
Lucius let out a sharp laugh. "So bitter, my friend. Is it that you miss it, or that you envy it?"  
  
"Perhaps, Lucius, I merely don't wish to be having this conversation," he replied, weariness creeping into his voice.  
  
"What did you and McGonogall discuss that night?"  
  
"Why is it so important to you?"  
  
"A dying man's last request?"  
  
"You think we'll win then?"  
  
Lucius nodded, swallowed, and looked out the window. After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need you to promise me something, Severus."  
  
"What?"  
  
"If I'm given the Kiss, I want you to bear witness."  
  
Severus shuddered. "Perhaps we should speak of McGonogall."  
  
"Yes, yes, perhaps," he said. "You had a story to tell me?"  
  
"Yes, yes I did." Resignedly, Severus began to pace, as he recounted his long ago late night tea with Minerva McGonogall.  
  
  
  
As he had followed McGonogall to her office, Severus had been full of dread. While he hadn't the slightest idea why she wanted to talk to him after that display he was absolutely sure a loss of points and several dozen detentions would have been better than whatever was about to transpire.  
  
"The washroom is through there, Mr. Snape. Perhaps you should make yourself presentable prior to our discussion."  
  
Severus was relieved and grateful for the opportunity to straighten his robes and wash the taste of Lucius from his lips before having to face his professor under good lighting.  
  
"Tea?" McGonogall asked as he emerged from the bathroom.  
  
"Please, thank you," he had muttered, somewhat shocked.  
  
"Have a seat then," she said, gesturing to the guest chair in front of her desk.  
  
Severus sat, and waited as she served them each a cup.  
  
McGonogall sighed, and visibly searched for where to begin. "Are you very much in love with him?"  
  
It was about the last question Severus had expected to hear. "May I ask why you inquire?"  
  
McGonogall had smirked, and nodded her head. Slytherins may shed their skins, but they don't generally change their spots, even when caught in embarrassing trouble.  
  
"In the interest of making this dialogue as productive as possible, you may Mr. Snape; this is hardly a circumstance to stand on ceremony. The answer is that I am curious what would lead a student as exceptional and as unusual as yourself down that particular garden path."  
  
Severus had been unable to resist sitting up straighter at the flattery, even as his Slytherin nature reminded him to be wary of compliments, especially from unusual sources. "Explain, if you would, Professor."  
  
"You excel in all your subjects, and from what I and the other teachers have seen, it seems likely that your true gifts aren't even reflected in your curriculum work."  
  
"Something that concerns you."  
  
"In these times, Mr. Snape, everything concerns us. Which brings us to Mr. Malfoy."  
  
"The answer to your question is, I should think, rather obviously yes. You didn't need to ask it."  
  
"No, I didn't, but it seemed polite."  
  
Severus shrugged.  
  
"Yes, I'm well aware you have little interest in such things."  
  
The remark earned a genuine smile.  
  
"How much do you know about Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
"I am a Slytherin. I'm well aware of both the genealogy and political standings of most everyone I encounter, and certainly anyone I choose or am obligated to have ongoing dealings with. If you would like a demonstration, I would be happy to quote your lineage back … oh, I think I have six generations, without effort."  
  
"Impressive, and somewhat excessive, as ever, Mr. Snape."  
  
"Of course," he replied, inclining his head slightly.  
  
"The Malfoy family is not something to be trifled with, Mr. Snape."  
  
"Considering I was the one on my knees, Professor, I can hardly say I'm doing the trifling."  
  
"You are disposable to him, child."  
  
Severus bristled at the term. Of course, he was a child, barely sixteen, to the rest of his class' seventeen and eighteen.  
  
"You won't have to worry about catching us in the halls much longer either way, Ma'am."  
  
"That's quite true, Severus. However, I would hate to see your talent wasted, and I know, better than most of the temptations members of the Malfoy clan can offer."  
  
Severus narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Oh yes, they're all like Lucius. I went to school with one myself, and the things he offered me eventually had prices I did not wish to pay. I do not sense the same reluctance on your part, Mr. Snape."  
  
Severus thinned his lips at her and tried not to shake as he spoke. "My options are limited and his indulgences most appreciated. All time is limited and borrowed. That is what I know, better than most. Despite appearances, Professor, I am as deserving of so fleshy a life as any other young man. You may feel free to discourage me from doing so in this institution's halls, but anything else will be a waste of breath on your part."  
  
"Regardless of the consequences?"  
  
"I am more than aware of the potential consequences."  
  
"Then I suppose you have made your choice and that we're done here, Mr. Snape," she said rising.  
  
"So it would seem. When and where would you like me to report for detention?"  
  
"You may consider the matter closed. And I trust this conversation will stay between us."  
  
"You may trust," he said, cryptically, but it seemed to satisfy.  
  
  
  
When he returned to the Seprent's Den, he found Lucius had in fact waited up for him, curled alone in a too large chair in front of the room's low fire.  
  
"Did she ask for favors, Sev?" he whispered maliciously across the room.  
  
"No."  
  
"Mmmm, come here then," he said, opening his arms to the other boy.  
  
Severus sank sulkily into the chair with Lucius and sighed as the arms wound around him, wondering why he did not feel more victorious in a display that could easily make their interaction common knowledge amongst their peers.  
  
Lucius sucked at his ear lobe, dragged his lips along the pale neck. "Much left undone this evening," he murmured.  
  
"I think, I think I just need to go to bed after all that, Luci."  
  
"Let me make sure you sleep well, at least," the other boy murmured, still kissing.  
  
"Luci –" he started to protest, before the hand slipped into his robes and took his voice. 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer:  
  
It's JKR's world, I just play in it.  
  
  
  
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"That's all?" The blond man was incredulous.  
  
"That's all."  
  
"I have to admit I'm rather disappointed."  
  
"Purely your own fault."  
  
"Why were you so cold after that?"  
  
"I realize it may be hard for you to grasp the meaning of such a sentiment, Lucius, but I was in love with you, and on that particular evening two things were demonstrated to me. The first, that I had unhappily come to need your affections. The second, I had already known, which was that they were necessarily temporary. Under those circumstances you could forgive a boy his edginess."  
  
Lucius snorted.  
  
"Oh that's right, Lucius Malfoy, my confessor, my terrible priest, my alabaster god who forgives nothing as he believes in nothing."  
  
"So romantic, Severus."  
  
"Indulge me by being less surprised," he said, a hint of disgust in his voice.  
  
Lucius gave an acquiescent nod and indulged in half a smile.  
  
"I will miss you," Severus said, despite thinking better of so honest a confession.  
  
"Then promise me."  
  
"What about Draco, Narcissa?"  
  
"You can't possibly think either of them would have the stomach for it."  
  
"Maybe it's time they acquired it."  
  
"Severus?"  
  
"Mmmm?"  
  
"We both know that's unlikely."  
  
"You seem to think I care for their feelings."  
  
"For all the promises you wanted to make to me in the dark of this school that year, just agree this, would you?"  
  
Severus crossed the room then and bent at the waist to kiss Lucius' forehead, lips conforming for a moment to the space between his brows.  
  
"Goodbye, Lucius," he said, and turned, exiting the room without another word or glance.  
  
  
  
"Severus," Minerva placed her hand on his arm as he emerged from Lucius' rather comfortable prison.  
  
"Your work is done here; go to bed, Minerva." he said, annoyance and exhaustion clear in his tone as he shrugged her touch off.  
  
She ran to catch up with him. "Are you –"  
  
"I'm fine and if you attempt to finish your inquiry, I swear I will strike you dead right here so help me gods." He realized his voice was shaking, that he was speaking too quickly, control lost yet again because of Lucius, because of his own inappropriate and poorly contained desire.  
  
She backed away from him then. "Alright. In the morning then."  
  
"In the morning,," he replied, letting mental exhaustion win the war as he began the long walk down to his dungeon apartments.  
  
  
  
There, Severus undressed mechanically, counting to himself as he unfastened buttons, a calming ritual he had indulged in for too many years now.  
  
He didn't think he had it in him to sleep; he rarely did, even under the best of circumstances, but with a life that could now be counted in minutes, and a heart bent on resting in the past, sleep seemed a terrible waste.  
  
Sliding into bed and marveling at the simple luxuriousness of crisp cool sheets, Severus curled up, forcefully clutching a pillow to him. By this time tomorrow, if he lived, he would have outlived his usefulness to everyone except as a witness to the one thing he was truly afraid of.  
  
"You're so damn clever, Lucius, it hurts," he whispered spitefully, before shutting his eyes tightly against the advancing hour. 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer:  
  
It's JKR's world, I just play in it.  
  
Here's the final chapter of this folx, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed creating it.  
  
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Voldemort was defeated. And against all his fears and hopes, and, in fact, against all reason, Severus Snape survived with little more than a shattered elbow from a poorly executed dodge.  
  
Had he been anything but a potions master, Severus would have been happy to have taken the medicines Madam Pomfrey offered, waited a day or two for the pain to abate as the joint regenerated and then gone about his life with an arm constantly stiff and frequently weak.  
  
Instead, his legendary foul temper increased as he discovered he was unable to demonstrate to his classes the superior control that potions making required at all times.  
  
Oddly, once he accepted that he would need an assistant for some of his teaching and research, he was glad of the distraction selecting one provided. After all, it was better than paying more attention to the trials than absolutely necessary.  
  
They began with the minor Death Eaters first, the soldiers, in the hopes that their testimony would incriminate those above them, saving time as the later trials finally began. And while this was in some cases effective, Severus was still called as a witness at far more of the proceedings than he would have hoped.  
  
He became used to it; it was, after all, just another type of horror, and one less graphic and painful than many he had witnessed. It was hard not to be reminded each time he arrived, face stony, eyes focusing on nothing somewhere in the middle-distance that it so easily could have been him whose fate was being weighed.  
  
He refused to push so grim a thought from his mind though, because it had the benefit of preventing him from thinking about the inevitable, about Lucius.  
  
  
  
The headmaster has asked him to join him in his office after dinner. A cup of tea, a matter to be discussed. He knew, by the relentless compassion in Albus' eyes and by the way Minerva couldn't look at him during the meal, that Lucius had been sentenced.  
  
For a change, Albus did not beat around the bush or insist on annoying and knowing pleasantries. Instead, he merely passed the Ministry letter to Severus, who read it quickly before even taking a seat. Lucius had been sentenced to receive the Dementor's Kiss and had requested he attend as his personal witness.  
  
"I'd expected as much," he said, passing the letter back to Albus.  
  
The headmaster nodded thoughtfully. "Minerva will be in attendance as well."  
  
"Why?" Severus asked, too shocked to be alarmed or to say something cutting.  
  
"Considering Lucius' long history with Hogwarts, the institution itself is considered one of his victims, and as such, we've a right to a witness there."  
  
Severus sighed. "I don't need to tell you I hate this, do I Albus?"  
  
"No child, it certainly doesn't make one feel we have escaped the war, no matter his crimes."  
  
"Yes, no matter," Severus replied, starring off again.  
  
"How's the arm?"  
  
"It would be fine if I didn't require the use of it."  
  
"Have you made any progress in acquiring an assistant."  
  
"No. I'm not someone most people would care to work for, and it's difficult to find the appropriate mix of brilliant precision, utter lack of creativity, and complete silence I require."  
  
Albus exchanged a slight smile with the potions master then. "There are a number of former students whose fortunes and obligations have been greatly effected by recent events. There are to my admittedly less expert eye, several reasonable candidates there. Perhaps you'd like to review the list?"  
  
"That seems wise, thank you Albus. If there isn't anything else?"  
  
"No Severus, you may go, I just thought you deserved the news in person. Your owl should arrive tomorrow,"  
  
"Very good then."  
  
"If you need anything, Severus," Albus called after him as he left, knowing the effort was futile, that Severus never really asked anyone for anything, although sometimes he would gaze at things, as if in hopes someone would inquire as to the nature of his interest.  
  
  
  
Azkaban. The most claustrophobic place in the entire world. Entering the prison again, after so long was a terrible thing for Severus. He'd spent nearly four months there in his early twenties after his confessions to Albus, as the Ministry pushed paper to allow the Headmaster to be his keeper. It was only much, much later that Albus had revealed what the younger man had already known – that the paperwork kept getting lost, that the process kept getting derailed because they hoped Albus would drop it. A spy was valuable, certainly, but the notion that a Death Eater could reform? It was fatal to the war effort, the by any means necessary philosophy so poorly executed by ministry officials. Slytherins would have done it right, brutally and efficiently, not tried to kill him with lost paperwork. Eventually, Albus had won, and Severus was given his life, such as it was, such as it had become.  
  
With a slight flourish of his robes, Severus took his seat next to Minerva, in the gallery, above the coming spectacle. They glanced at each other, without turning their heads, and then she reached over to cover one of his hands with her own. He smiled weakly at her for a moment, before shrugging the touch off. This was not a time for anything but loss.  
  
Minerva gasped when the prisoner, Severus could no longer think of him as Lucius, was led in. He was surprised himself, but for a different reason. Severus knew what happened to people in Azkaban, and Lucius seemed to have held up shockingly well. A spark of intelligence remained in his eyes, as did a confident set to his jaw, and a deliberate step. It was most incongruous with his obviously deteriorated health, greyed skin and now oily hair. Until that moment, Severus had never seen a Malfoy look anything but beautiful. But he was still Lucius, and that was something at least.  
  
He was seated, with some roughness in a large ornate wooden chair, and he sat on it, arms on the rests as if it were a throne. A brief smile flitted over Severus' face. The guards left the room.  
  
Severus felt the dementor enter, before he saw it, cold at the base of his spine, like the antithesis of sex, a strange feeling, that spread up and through him, like breathing mud. Others in the gallery gasped, and Severus mentally chided them for being so weak.  
  
Lucius, sat up in his chair, back straight, fingers clutching the arm rests, confirming what Severus suspected, he wanted this. He had somehow convinced himself that this was a final depravity he could not resist. It worked though, provided him with enough will to seem a tragic figure, which he was, but not, in a way his ego would ever have let him understand.  
  
The creature glided up to him, snaked one long tremulous white finger under his chin, and Lucius rolled his eyes back and closed. The creature bent then, ever so slowly, and took the man's face in his hands. Lucius snapped his eyes open then, and for a moment they searched the gallery franticly until they fastened on Severus. He smiled then, as much as he could, and then closed his eyes again, as the dementor's mouth met his own.  
  
Severus watched his old lovers body arc into the creature, and the moment seemed to last an eternity, but then the kiss was broken, and the dementor leaned Lucius back against the chair before gliding out.  
  
The blond man no longer held the arm rests. In fact, his arms hung limply at his sides. His head, tilted at an awkward angle, continued to look for something in the gallery, but the eyes did not focus. The man still breathed, but he was also gone.  
  
Severus bolted from his chair.  
  
  
  
Outside, air, thank the gods. It had taken forever to get through all the security checks and get out of there. Secretly, he didn't think they were going to let him back out.  
  
It was too awful. Better that they should kill the guilty outright. Severus had always hated the ministry hypocrits. Reflexively he took several large lung fulls of the salt sea air, and slowly, thankfully began to feel as if his body were his own again.  
  
Lucius. Poor, clever, hopeless, beautiful Lucius. He remembered the weekend, not long after Minerva had caught them. Weekend leave, the occassional priveledge of seventh years, and they went home to the Malfoy manner. His father was away. His mother, engaged entirely in her own intrigues. And they had gotten drunk, painfully, stupidly and expensively drunk.  
  
The had both tripped, finding their way up the grand spiral staircase, and lay there, for a long moment tangled in each others arms and kissing, until Lucius finally found his feet.  
  
"Come on, Severus, get up!"  
  
"Must I? This was proving so comfortable."  
  
The blonde boy had tugged on his arm, pleaded, begged and cajoled, until patience was finally lost and he had hissed, "You need to get up before one of the house elves finds us and tells my mother we're sprawled on the stairs too drunk to fuck."  
  
And Severus had sobered instantly. "Is that what we're doing?"  
  
"If you would get your sorry ass upstairs with me, it had rather been my intent. Or would you like to wait until McGonogall can watch us?"  
  
Severus had found his feet then, and the boys found Lucius' bedroom and quickly collapsed on the bed, drifting into unconsciousness before Lucius could find a potion to sober them up, all the while, Severus muttering about the beauty of his silver silk sheets.  
  
Severus awoke, sometime shortly after dawn, to a tongue tracing its way down his spine. Lucius, making good on his promise. When he realized Severus was awake he muttered in his ear, nonsense words, reassurances, amusing patterns in Latin, anything to keep his young lover's fear and perennial tension at bay.  
  
Fingers sliding into him, and Severus remembered fear, not at the pain, but at the notion anything could feel like that, could take a person over, could make them lose words. Everything else he had experienced at that point had merely been, he realized, a simulation of so strange a science.  
  
They didn't find their way out of bed until the afternoon. They had needed naps and the humid isolation of Lucius' room. Severus had needed to be held, especially when he realized that was what he had always needed. Terror at that. Terror worse and more beautiful than Azkaban. If only he and Lucius had been other people, but that had never been within either of their considerable power, and certainly would never be now.  
  
Severus shook his head to clear it, and opened his eyes, to find McGonogall had joined him outside, and was eyeing him with concern.  
  
"Severus?" she inquired softly.  
  
"It's alright, I'm alright." His voice was tight, more fragile than he had expected.  
  
"Let's go home Severus," she said softly, coming to stand beside him.  
  
He swallowed, nodded, and squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall. Severus wished desperately that Lucius had found some other way to tell him he had once been loved. 


End file.
